Unprotected
by jugglequeen
Summary: It's always good to protect yourself, but sometimes you have to put down that hampering protective shield.
1. An Early Spring Day

He rushed through the automatic door past the reception.

"Sir!" the woman behind the counter shouted after him, and as he didn't stop, she raised her voice. "Sir! Excuse me! Where do you think you're going?"

"Uh, Bower. I'm looking for Angela Bower. She was checked in this morning. Someone called me," Tony told her.

"That must've been me. I found your number in Ms. Bower's address book in her purse. Go to the 3rd floor and report to the reception desk when you step out of the elevator. They'll show you to her room."

Without even thanking the nurse, Tony rushed to the elevator, pushed the button and impatiently waited for the doors to open up in front of him. He almost knocked down a man wanting to get out, completely oblivious to the annoyed face he was shown. Inside, he pushed the button that would bring him to the 3rd floor, reading 'Women's Health' on the plate beside it, but not really wasting a thought about it.

As soon as the doors slipped open, Tony wormed through them and approached the reception desk. "Ms. Bower's room, please! Quick!" he managed to summon up a minimum of courtesy.

A doctor looked up from behind the counter and addressed him. "Mr. Bower?"

"Ahem, my name is Micelli. I'm not Ms. Bower's husband, I'm her f-"

'Friend,' he had wanted to say, but the doctor interrupted him. "Fiancé? Well, that's okay. Follow me, Sir."

"What happened to her?"

Tony didn't really care about the misunderstanding. He wasn't Angela's fiancé, they weren't even in a relationship. But he was worried about her, and he knew that the doctor wouldn't tell him anything about her medical condition if he found out that he was her housekeeper. That they were more than just employee and employer to each other, but friends, best friends, with a lot of chemistry between them, wouldn't count. Only close relatives were given personal information, not housekeepers. So he kept his mouth shut and let the doctor think what he obviously wanted to think.

"Your fiancée has been involved in a rear-impact crash."

"Oh my God!" was all Tony could say about it.

"It wasn't a very severe accident. The police reported that she waited at a red light and another driver rushed into the back of her car. The impact had been quite intense though, but a Jaguar is a solid construction, so the car body absorbed most of the energy. Ms. Bower suffered from a whiplash and shock, but she'll recover quickly."

Tony let out a sigh of relief.

"They both came out quite well. They were lucky."

"Both?" Tony asked, "What happened to the other driver?"

"Oh, the other driver didn't suffer from any injuries. The airbag protected him perfectly. I was talking about the baby, Mr. Micelli!"

"The baby? Which baby?"

"Yours!"

"Mine?"

"Your financée is pregnant. Didn't you know?" the doctor asked, but one look at Tony's puzzled face told him that he hadn't.

'I didn't even know she was my fiancée,' went through Tony's mind. He shook his head as if the pieces of the puzzle only needed to be shuffled so that they would finally all fall into the right places.

"Oops, I hope I haven't ruined the surprise. Ms. Bower's 10 weeks pregnant, Mr. Micelli. There's no baby bump visible yet, but you should've noticed some changes in her: morning sickness, fatigue, voracious appetite," the doctor told him, looking intensely at him above the brim of his reading glasses, one eyebrow arched.

Tony's mind was spinning. 10 weeks? He was too confused to be able to count back, but if he roughly calculated and took into consideration that February was such a short month...yeah, it could work well. Had it really been 10 weeks?

"Mr. Micelli! Haven't you noticed any of what I just told you about? Normally, these are unmistakable early signs of a pregnancy, especially the cravings for food."

If this annoying medic only knew that Angela craved for food almost on a daily basis, that she was tired every day she came home from work, and that she could easily hide her morning sickness because they slept in different bedrooms. But of course he didn't know, and Tony wasn't willing to explain, so he had to live with the notion of being an insensitive, inattentive fiancé.

"Here we are." The doctor knocked gently at the door. "She's been given a weak sedative. We want her to rest. The better her body recovers from the jolt, the better the chances she keeps the baby."

"Keep the baby? I thought you said they were both well."

"They are right now. And there's no doubt Ms. Bower will recover completely, but for the baby we have to wait another 12 to 24 hours. It's okay now, and we don't see any reason to be worried, but the first trimester of pregnancy is a critical phase anyway, and with an outside impact such as a car accident, you can never tell. If everything is still okay the day after tomorrow, you can relax, but you've got to wait until then, I'm afraid. That's why we're keeping your fiancée here under surveillance for the next two days at least."

The doctor put his index finger to his mouth, and motioned Tony to follow him into Angela's room. In a whisper, he said, "We don't want to wake her up if she sleeps. The more she rests, the better."

On tiptoes, Tony and the doctor approached the bed and found Angela asleep. Her head was slightly tilted to the side, her face was a bit pale and she had dark circles under her eyes.

"Oh boy, she doesn't look well, Doctor," Tony whispered.

Satisfied that this man finally proved to have noticed at least some changes in his fiancée, the doctor explained, "It rather derives from the mental shock than the physical impact. Ms. Bower was very worried about her unborn baby upon admission."

Tony stared at Angela's hands. The one with the IV access was outstretched on the bed next to her body, the other was lying on her lower stomach, her delicate fingers splayed out for protection of what was underneath.

"Angela," was all Tony uttered. He also was in a mental shock, still unable to think straight.

"You can stay here, Mr. Micelli. She'll be happy to see you when she wakes up. If you need anything, just ask one of the nurses."

"Thank you, Doctor."

"You're welcome. Best of luck. For the three of you!" the medic said with a compassionate smile. He patted Tony on the shoulder, then he left him alone.

_The three of you._

It sounded so surreal. Tony believed himself in some kind of parallel universe. Angela pregnant? It was simply impossible! Unimaginable!

He pulled a chair close to her bed, sat down, crossed his arms in front of his chest, and looked at her. Her chest rose and sank rhythmically, and she seemed to be relaxed. But Tony could see that her eyeballs were flickering restlessly underneath the lids. She wasn't truly relaxed but in a light REM sleep because of the sedative. He knew her well, contrary to what that doctor might think of him. If she really was pregnant, and Tony still refused to believe it, she would never be able to sleep out of worry for her baby.

Tony took her hand in his, not the one on her stomach, the other, and gently squeezed it. "Shhh, Angela, it's alright," he whispered in a soothing voice, trying to calm her, "I'm here now. You can sleep, I'm looking after you and..." He couldn't bring himself to saying it out loud. The idea was still too crazy and far-fetched to be voiced.

A few hours later, after having been checked on by the nurse twice, Tony couldn't sit in the uncomfortable chair any longer. So he let go of Angela's hand, got up and stretched his back and legs. He walked over to the window and looked out, without really taking notice of the scenery outside. His thoughts were still running amok, the news hadn't sunk in completely yet. He dreaded the moment she would wake up, because he had no idea about how to talk to her.

The nurse came in once again to check Angela's pulse and temperature. She threw Tony a sympathetic look, wrote Angela's data on a chart, and left.

Tony had lost his sense of time, when suddenly Angela moaned silently. Her breathing became irregular and her body started moving under the sheet, eventually her eyes fluttered open.

"Hi," Tony said, casting her a warm smile from where he stood by the window.

"Tony!" Angela whispered, her voice at bit frail. "What are you doing here?"

"I've been called," he explained.

"By whom?"

"The hospital. They found our number in your address book. They told me you were involved in a car accident, so I speeded right over. How do you feel?"

"I'm okay. My head hurts a little, and my neck, but it's not that bad."

That was all. She didn't say anything about the baby. If Tony wanted to find out whether what the doctor had told him was true, he had to address the matter. But how? He wasn't very good at talking about personal stuff. Plus he didn't have any idea what all this meant for him. His brain was still in an uproar, so he couldn't think of a more sensitive way but to ask her directly.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were pregnant, Angela?"

Angela's eyes widened and she gasped for air. "Who told you?"

"The doctor."

"The doctor told you? He's not supposed to share my medical record with any man coming by."

"Ey-oh, Angela, I'm not _any man_!" Tony replied harshly. He was a bit offended. They were best friends and knew more about the other than anyone else.

"No, you're most certainly not, Tony." Angela smiled weakly at him. "But you're no next of kin, that's what I meant."

"I guess he thought that the first man rushing in asking for you would be your husband."

"Didn't you tell him you weren't?"

"Of course I did! I told him my name was Micelli, but he wouldn't let me articulate clearly, he simply presumed I had to be your fiancé then."

"Why did you let him believe it?"

"I got a little distracted when he told me the _two_ of you were okay, to be honest!" Tony now spat out.

Why was she so upset that the doctor had told him about her pregnancy? Didn't she want him to know? How had she planned to keep that a secret from him in the long run?

Angela closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Then she looked at Tony but didn't say a word.

"Why didn't you tell me, Angela?" Tony asked when he couldn't hold her gaze any longer. "I thought we told each other everything."

"I just found out myself a few days ago, Tony. My period isn't as regular anymore as when I was a young woman, and it's been so busy at work lately, so I didn't even realize that I was late. But at a certain point there was no denying it anymore, so I made an appointment with my obstetrician. When he told me that I was pregnant, I couldn't believe it myself. I needed my time to process it. I would've told you, but I haven't been ready yet."

"Is it mine?"

A look into Angela's eyes told Tony he should've better stopped himself from asking this question. Her entire facial expression screamed at him, 'How dare you ask?'

"Sorry," he murmured ruefully, holding his hands up in defense.

"Do you really think I've been sleeping around lately?" she shrieked out.

"No! No, of course not!"

"So, yes, Tony, it's yours!"

"But you said we were safe!"

"I know, and I'm sorry. I really thought we were! You've got to believe me, Tony! I didn't mean to trick you into fatherhood! I would never do such a thing! Michael and I had relied on the Fertility Awareness Method for birth control, and it had always worked. That night should've been an infertile phase of my cycle. What I didn't know was that for women my age FAM is not really recommended because the cycle isn't as regular and predictable anymore. And moreover...uh, your sperm seem to have felt quite comfortable inside of me, that's why they survived much longer than usual, and so it happened. At least, that's how my doctor explained it to me. It was an accident, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. It's all my fault."

"Would you stop it, Angela! This is not all your fault, it always takes two. We're both responsible for this mess."

"Mess?" Angela screeched. "This is what this is for you? A mess?" Angela's voice sounded a bit hysteric now. She set upright, ready to jump out of the bed any minute. "This is exactly why I didn't know how to tell you, Tony! Listen, I don't expect anything from you. I told you we were safe and we weren't. It's my responsibility, and I'm going to deal with it. You don't owe me anything. I already raised a boy without his father, I can do it again."

"That's nonsense, Angela! First, you didn't raise Jonathan on your own, I helped you, and second, with calling it a mess I didn't want to imply that I'm not willing to care for you and the baby. You want to go on with the pregnancy, I suppose."

Angela stared at him once again.

"You can't be serious with asking me this! I thought you knew me!" She was very upset now, really angry with him. Her eyes transfixed Tony. "Do you honestly think I would have an abortion to get rid of a baby? _Your_ baby?"

"No...uh...well...darn!" Tony tore at his hair and paced through the room. "Give me a little credit here, Angela! You took your time to let the news sink in, I've just learned that you're expecting. So don't be so hard on my wording. Please!" he beseeched her now in a conciliatory tone.

Angela sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm a little on edge myself."

She pulled the sheet away and hung her legs out of the bed as if she wanted to get up, but Tony instantly called a halt.

"You stay in bed!" he told her, "The doctor has prescribed strict bed rest, and I won't let you violate the doctor's orders. For your own benefit, and of the one...inside."

After she had obeyed his commands, Tony went back to the window and looked out again. With his back turned to her, he continued. It was impossible to face her while telling her what he was up to.

"Look Angela, what I want you to understand is that of course I'll be there for you and the baby. This isn't your fault like you said. We had unprotected sex, the two of us. We were careless and irresponsible, and if either Sam or Jonathan ever has unprotected sex they will be given a piece of my mind, but what I'm trying to say is that it's _our_ responsibility, not yours alone. Okay, you said we were safe, so I didn't care for a condom, but I also wanted to believe you, do you understand? God, I wanted you that night, Angela! I wanted you so badly, all of you and all at once! So when you said I didn't need to care for contraception, I put it out of my mind. And maybe even if you had told me to care about it, I'm not sure I would've been able to. But regardless of all the passion and the lust I was feeling that night, which made me throw all precautions overboard, I do know that babies may result from unprotected sex, Angela. I know now and I knew then. So we are together in this, and...it's _not_ a mess! It's the most wonderful of surprises!"

"Really?" Angela's voice broke.

"Yes!" Tony turned around and looked her in the eye. "Hey, you're having my baby, Angela!" He let out a suppressed chuckle. "This is crazy!"

"It is, isn't it?"

"We should get married," Tony suddenly said out of the blue after a moment of silence.

"Get married?"

"Don't you want the baby to be legitimate?"

"Oh, I see. You would be doing it for the baby," Angela noted.

"Sure."

"Yeah, sure."

Angela pulled the sheet up to her chin. She was a master of self-control, so she was able to hide her disappointment.

"Tony, you don't need to do that. Don't feel obliged to marry the woman you knocked up in a night of careless, irresponsible frenzy." The sarcasm in her voice was unmistakable, even for a man.

"Aaangelaa!"

"Those were your own words!"

"But I wanted to say something else, and you know it!"

"Don't tell me you would've even thought about marriage if this hadn't happened."

"I would've wanted to date you first!"

"But you haven't!"

"We had a date!"

"That silly pity date doesn't count! Mother talked you into it."

"Well, it's because you're my...you know!"

"Boss! I know, Tony. I'm your boss, and you would never do such a stupid thing as to lay a hand on your boss!"

"Are you pulling out each and every word I have spoken over the last five years now?"

"You said that the first night you slept in my house. Too bad you broke your own resolution, huh?"

Angela's face was like a stone mask now. Tony stared at her. He hadn't anticipated that their conversation might take this turn and that their voices might be that harsh. But what was she accusing him of anyway? That he had slept with her? That he hadn't dated her? That he had proposed? He had no idea.

"What do you mean? Do you regret it?" Tony looked into Angela's face, which was like a puzzle of ten thousand pieces to him. He just couldn't read anything in it. "I don't!" he felt the urge to point out. "I don't regret a single minute of that night, Angela. It was amazing. I hadn't experienced something like this for a long time."

A weak smile ran over Angela's face now. Her eyes shone for a split second but returned to being dark instantly. "Then why did you say that it wasn't meant to be the beginning of something the morning after? That we should go on as if it had never happened?"

Tony sighed. He remembered his state of mind this particular morning. How he had woken up holding her in his arms, feeling her warm body nestled on his, her hair tickling his nose. It had been a wonderful feeling but had also frightened the hell out of him.

"Because..."

"I'm your boss, I know! And you are a student, and my housekeeper, and you want to set an example for the kids, and everything works well the way it is... There seem to be a million reasons!"

"That's not it, at least, it's not _all_ there is to it."

"What is it then, Tony? Why is it so difficult for you to love me?"

"It's not difficult at all, Angela. Believe me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" It annoyed her that he was speaking in riddles, not getting to the point of what really bothered him about being in a relationship with her. He was attracted, of that much she was sure. Not only emotionally, but also physically. Their night of passion - irresponsible and careless as it was - proved it.

"Have you or have you not been happy these last years?" she now asked.

"I've been very happy these last years. I wasn't any happier during my years with Marie."

"What is your problem then?"

After a long moment of silence, Tony's subconscious mind finally let him voice it.

"I lost her."

He choked on the words and turned away from Angela. He didn't want her to see the grief which still kept overwhelming him whenever he thought about the trick fate had played on him, taking his wife away from him at the tender age of thirty.

Angela inhaled deeply. In her mind, the pieces were finally falling into the right places. Everything made sense. That was it. That was his problem.

"Oh, Tony," Angela said compassionately, "come here." She patted on the bed right beside her, but Tony ignored it. "If you don't come over to me, I have to come over to you!"

As she had expected, that made him turn around on his heel. "You have to stay in bed, Angela," he said in a voice much weaker and more fragile than before. He dragged his feet over to her bed and sat on the edge beside her.

"Is this what you're afraid of? To lose someone you love once again?"

"Her illness came out of the blue, Angela, at a time nobody had expected it. It took me quite a while to cope with the loss. I don't want to go through something like this ever again in my life."

"I understand your feelings, but what is your plan, Tony? To never love again?"

Tony only shrugged. "Why can't we leave things as they are? They're wonderful the way they are. Perfect."

"Wonderful, yes. Perfect, no. I love the way we've built this family, but I want more from you." She took one of his hands. "I'm in love with you." And looking into his eyes, which stared at her because of her open words, she went on, "I want all of you, Tony! Now that I've had the first bite that night, I want to try the whole cake!"

"Uh, what about...what I said...that morning..." Tony murmured in a helpless stutter.

"That we should go on as if it had never happened?"

"Yeah."

"I don't think it's possible. There's a baby growing inside of me, reducing any attempt to negate that night to absurdity."

"Uh...right." Tony became evermore sparing with words.

"You regret it," she stated sadly.

"No, Angela. It was a wonderful night. It's only that..." he trailed off.

"You can't picture yourself being in a relationship with me." Angela voiced the painful truth, biting her lower lip so hard that it almost bled. The stinging pain in her lip took away a bit of the pain in her heart though.

"What if something happens to you? Honestly, Angela, when I see you sitting in this bed, wearing one of these terrible hospital gowns..." His voice broke, "Well, it brings back a lot of painful memories. I wouldn't be able to cope with something like this once again. I simply wouldn't!"

"But I'm fine, Tony! And so is the baby! The accident wasn't so bad," Angela insisted.

"Yeah, this time! What if next time some drunken idiot hits you from up front? What if you develop some nasty disease? What if the train derails on your way home from work?" The list of nightmare scenarios seemed to be indefinite.

Angela could see the horror in his eyes. They had lost all its warmth and liveliness, they were dull and empty. "So many 'what ifs', Tony? What if the world explodes tomorrow? Nobody is able to predict the future. Something might happen to you as well, and you'd be leaving behind the ones who love you. The more important it is to live your life to the fullest when you have the chance!"

"I'm just scared that one day I might lose you, too."

"I understand, Tony. I understand that with keeping me away from you, you're only protecting yourself. But see, I was disappointed in love just like you. My husband didn't die, but our love did. After he had left me, I felt forlorn and betrayed by what love had promised me. When I married him, I had been in the strong belief that it would be forever, and it wasn't. But I didn't lose my faith in love. And you mustn't lose yours either! We have the chance at a wonderful relationship! Why not grab it?" Angela's eyes beseeched Tony now. She wanted for him to be happy, nothing more and nothing less, and she knew from the bottom of her heart that she would make him happy.

"What if it didn't last? Like Michael's and your love? What if we tried and failed? If we broke up? What would happen to Sam and Jonathan?"

"Let me answer you with another what if: what if it simply were good? Really good?" Angela smiled to herself, for these last sentences rang a bell.

"It would be the best relationship I can imagine. I'd be in love with my best friend," Tony replied.

"Do you want to be? In love with your best friend, I mean?"

Tony stared at her, unable to make a move. He so much wanted to touch her, embrace her, kiss her, but he felt as if he was stuck in jelly. His fears were controlling his muscles, it was as if his heart told him 'Jump!' but his mind withheld him.

It was Angela's magic which broke the spell. Although he hadn't given her an answer to her question, she cupped Tony's face and pulled it closer to hers. They looked at each other so intensely that neither of them dared to blink. Tony couldn't prevent his eyes from filling with tears - on the one hand, because they were so dry from not blinking, on the other, because his emotions were in an uproar and it was just too much to handle. When a single tear jumped out of his left eye and slowly ran down his cheek, Angela brushed it away with a feathery kiss.

His cheek was burning like fire, and the tear tasted salty. Angela knew this was the moment of truth. If she let go now, he might never take her again where he had been with her today: at the depths of his soul, where he had buried his fears and sorrows, his misconceptions and inner demons. So she lovingly stroked his cheeks and leaned in so close that Tony could feel her breathing. When her lips finally found his, she placed a first shy kiss on them, fearing he wouldn't reciprocate but pull away instead.

But Tony didn't pull away, he let Angela kiss him. He loved being kissed by her. Her kisses were so soft, sweet, and seductive. This particular kiss was different though. It was an encouraging kiss, compassionate and sympathetic; a kiss supposed to heal his achy-breaky heart.

And it worked. The tension fell off of him, albeit only very slowly. It needed more than just one kiss, and Angela was sensitive enough to notice. So she not only deepened the kiss, prolonged it, let one kiss be followed by another, she also cupped his face with her warm, delicate hands, her loving fingertips stroking softly his cheeks, then his jawline, until they reached his neck and fondled his hair. Tony felt shivers running down his spine, and the fine hair on his lower arms started to rise because of the evermore pleasant sensation.

This was so good! He could get addicted to this. Was he really willing to deny himself kisses like this? Wasn't it too much a sacrifice only to protect his vulnerable soul from potential further hurting? How much security did he need? 100 percent? Pushing Angela away now would give him 100 percent. But at what cost? At the cost of being kissed so wonderfully, so affectionately and whole-heartedly. How much security could Angela give him? 50 percent? No, definitely more than 50 percent. Probably 80, maybe even 90 or 95. Wouldn't that much suffice? A 5-percent-risk wasn't too much, even 10 percent might be acceptable, especially for what he would get in return: the most fulfilling kind of relationship to a woman he adored since he had first met her.

Tony's protective shield began to crack, and the more Angela displayed her affection for him, the bigger and more numerous the cracks became.

"Trust in your feelings, Tony," Angela now said in her soothing voice. "Allow yourself to love again. I promise to take good care of your heart. I will do anything in my power to keep it from aching again."

"I know, Angela. It's just that-"

He was interrupted by a loud knock at the door and the almost simultaneous entering of a doctor with a nurse in tow who was pushing a medical device into Angela's room.

"Excuse us, Ms. Bower. Oh, hello Mr. Micelli. You're still here. Perfect."

The doctor had no idea that he had disturbed his patient and her visitor at the most inappropriate moment. Tony had been at the verge of opening up, now he felt as if he had been hosed with cold water.

"Yes, still here," he mumbled, got off the bed and retreated to his prior position at the window. Dusk was throwing its long shadows on the scenery, the warm day temperatures of early spring had fallen significantly; not only outside.

"Ms. Bower, we'd like to check on the baby. We have to make sure that there are no signs of a placental abruption. It would put both you and the baby at risk."

Tony moaned. What the doctor said only added fuel to the flames of his inner hell.

"Don't worry, Mr. Micelli, I'm pretty sure your fiancée and your baby are fine." Not knowing how to interpret Angela's shy smile upon his last words, he continued, "It's a routine procedure we perform regularly for the first 24 hours. I don't expect anything abnormal."

Tony made a move to leave the room, but was withheld by the nurse. "You don't have to leave, Mr. Micelli. Stay, and have a look at your baby."

Tony looked at Angela doubtfully.

"Yes, please stay, Tony."

The nurse placed the ultrasound scanner at the foot of the bed, so that both Angela and Tony could see the screen. Then she pulled Angela's gown up to reveal her belly. Tony looked at it and marveled about the fact that it was as flat as he remembered it, like when he had seen her naked getting out of the tub or in that cute yellow bathing suit in Puerto Vallarta. That a human being was growing inside that belly was almost impossible to believe.

Now the nurse applied a gel on Angela's stomach as well as on a little probe she then handed to the doctor with the words, "Here you go, Doctor Winer."

Doctor Winer touched Angela's stomach with the probe, stroked back and forth a few times to spread the gel evenly, then his moves became slower and more targeted.

"Let me have a look at the placenta first." He shoved the probe around a little, then left it at a certain spot. "Everything looks fine. No signs of an abruption, and no internal bleedings whatsoever. Very good!"

He pushed a button on the keyboard to print out a picture. Then he turned back to Angela's stomach and pushed the probe around until he found something.

"And theeere is your baby!" he announced with a grin.

Tony stared at the screen. He hadn't seen anything like this before. When Marie had been pregnant, ultrasound examinations had been something only the rich could afford. It hadn't been part of the usual pregnancy check-ups like they were today. The first time he had seen Samantha had been the moment the midwife had placed her in his arms, wrapped in a pink blanket. What he saw on the screen took his breath away. It looked a bit like a big gummy bear with arms and legs, but it most obviously was a living being. It was making jerky movements and bobbing around.

Angela looked at him and smiled. Tony saw something in her eyes he hadn't seen there before: motherly anticipation. Her eyes very overflowing with joy and exhilaration. She had been right, asking her whether she wanted to have the baby had been ridiculous. She was an expecting mother, there was no doubt about it anymore. He squeezed her hand and cast her a smile, then glued his eyes back to the ultrasound screen. He hadn't expected to see much more than gray shadows, an undefinable cluster of cells only a medic's well-trained eyes could read something into. He had not even remotely anticipated a readily developed fetus to appear on the screen. He could identify every body part: the huge head, the arms and legs, the spine. He recognized the umbilical cord which connected the baby to Angela until it would be born.

"I can see from your face that you're surprised, Mr. Micelli," Doctor Winer said complacently. "All tissues and organs are developed, for the rest of the pregnancy they mainly grow and mature. The baby is about one-and-a-half inches now. Your uterus has enlarged to the size of a grapefruit, Ms. Bower. It won't take long and you'll develop a baby bump."

"What's that flickering spot here?" Tony asked, pointing to the screen with his index finger.

"That spot is not flickering, Sir, it's beating. It's the baby's heart."

"So fast?"

"That's perfectly alright. A fetus' heart beats about two to three times faster than ours," Doctor Winer explained.

"Awesome!" was all Tony could say. He was completely amazed, especially taking into consideration that what he saw on the screen was inside Angela's belly. What had been nothing but a crazy, surreal notion a few moments ago, had turned into a very solid reality: Angela was having his baby. They were about to become parents, both of them, together. That was something else than being a surrogate parent to each other's child.

The doctor printed out a picture of the fetus and put it into a folder together with the one he had printed out before. Then he pushed the print button again and handed the picture to Tony. "Here you go, Daddy!" And with a smile he added, "For your family portrait gallery."

Angela squirmed. The medic didn't know any better, but she feared that what he had just said would be a bit much too much for Tony. He had to process a lot today - that their one-night stand entailed serious consequences, that she was in love with him and wanted to be in a romantic relationship with him - being reminded that for the onlooker things weren't as obvious as they seemed to be, didn't necessarily help. And her perception hadn't deceived her; although the doctor's intentions had been the best, they had the exact opposite effect: Tony turned pale and stared at the print-out in his hands.

"Gotta go!"

With this he rushed out of the room and left behind an astonished doctor, an appalled nurse, and a crestfallen Angela, who asked herself whether he would ever overcome the protective wall he had built around him.

It took Tony almost two hours to find the guts to return to Angela's room. He knew that he had done a terrible thing running away like a little boy who had broken a window and didn't want to get caught. There was no running away from this, and as a matter of fact, he didn't want to run away; he wanted to stay. He gently knocked at the door and waited.

"Come in," he heard Angela say, so he opened the door and peeked in.

Mona was sitting at Angela's bedside. She had obviously brought some clothes and vanity items from home. Angela was wearing one of her PJ's and had put her hair up in a ponytail.

"Don't be so shy, Buddy, come in! I won't bite you, although you knocked my daughter up and ran away in the middle of a medical examination."

"Hi, Mona. Hello, Angela." Tony entered the room unassertively. "I want to apologize. I'm so sorry I ran out of the room."

"It's alright, Tony. I guess it has simply been a bit too much for you today. That's okay. I'm glad you've returned though. What is it you're hiding behind your back?"

"Uh...well..."

He pulled a bouquet of yellow roses from behind his back. "They didn't have pink ones."

"Why don't I go look for a vase?" Mona said while rising from her chair. "It might take a while." She winked at Tony on her way out of the room.

When Tony heard the door close behind him, he approached Angela's bed. He still clutched the flowers with both hands.

"I shouldn't have run away. It was just when the doc called me Daddy-" he stopped abruptly.

"Forget it. You've come back, that's all that matters." She smiled at him. "Are these for me?" She pointed at the flowers in Tony's hands.

"Uh, yes, sure." He handed her the bouquet. "I bought six of them. One for each family member: Jonathan, Sam, Mona, you, the baby, and...me." He swallowed away the lump which had been sitting in his throat since he had bought the flowers for Angela.

"Thank you. That's very sweet of you."

Tony had gone through what he wanted to say to her a thousand times, but now none of the words came to mind. He could see that she expected some kind of explanation, and she had every right to. She looked so strong the way she was sitting in this bed; all composed and assertive about having this baby. She had rosy cheeks, the circles under her eyes were gone. She looked so appealing.

"Listen, Angela, I..."

"Yes, Tony?"

"I really want to marry you. And not only because of the baby, but because-" ... _Breathe, Micelli! Breathe!_ ... "because-"

"Because what?"

"Because I love you."

For a short moment, the world seemed to have come to a halt. Angela was the first who found her voice again. "You do?"

"Yes."

Now that the most important sentence was out, the rest seemed to jump out of his mouth on its own. "I love you so much that my fear of losing you paralyzed me. I thought that as long as I kept you as my platonic best friend, I was well protected against the fear and the pain of loss. But I wasn't. I didn't want to lose you to Geoffrey, I didn't want to lose you because of a woman I was dating, and I most certainly don't want to lose you because I don't have the guts to stand by my feelings for you."

Until now, Tony had been standing at her bed, now he sat down at the edge of it and took Angela's hands in his.

"That night was never meant to be a one-night stand. When I woke up in the morning, having you so close, I was the happiest man. But then my fears got the better of me. It was as if a cold fist reached out for my heart, and the only way to get rid of the anxiety was to call it a one-night stand. When I read from your face how disappointed you were, it almost broke my heart, Angela. I swear to God that I never wanted to hurt you. I wasn't in control at that moment."

"And you are now?"

"At least that much that I don't act against my better judgment. I know that I want to be with you. I want you to have this baby and raise it together with you. I want us to be a real family, one big colorful Bower-Micelli-Robinson family. I still have anxieties. I never fully recovered from the trauma of losing Marie. Maybe I should see a shrink, I don't know, but of one thing I'm certain: Marie wouldn't have wanted her death to overshadow my life forever. She would've wanted for me to free myself from her and start a new life with another woman. You are that woman, Angela. We started quite some time ago, and right now definitely is not the time for me to quit."

"What does that mean for us, Tony?"

"It means that I formally ask you for your hand, Madame. And if you're willing to accept my proposal, Doctor Winer can go on calling you my fiancée as often as he wants because he will be speaking the truth."

"You're proposing to me?"

"Yes."

"But not only because I'm pregnant."

"No."

"But because you're in love with me."

"Yes."

"And that I'm still your boss doesn't bother you."

"No."

"Hm."

"Any more questions?"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"When are you going to kiss me?"

Tony didn't have to be asked twice. Being allowed to kiss Angela anytime he wanted was the best thing about being in a romantic relationship with her. Okay, they would have sex, too, and the first and only night they had spent together so far was very promising, but kissing her was so sensual and luscious, her kisses delicious and sweet. He let go of her hands and cupped her face. After a short moment of gazing into her eyes, he put his lips on hers. The moment they touched was like a revelation; never again had a kiss elevated him that much. If there had still been a shred of doubt in him whether he could overcome his inhibitions, it was blown away by the joining of their mouths. And when their tongues united, he was overwhelmed with a sense of coming home.

If the choices had been Tony's to make, he would've never stopped kissing her. But at some point, Angela pulled back, not completely, only to be able to breathe.

"Mmmm...uh," Angela mumbled, her lips never leaving his, "this is good, Tony. So good!"

They engaged in another kiss. Tony prayed that this time they wouldn't be interrupted by Doc Winer and his crew once again. He expected Mona to be back any minute. Would she have the decency to make a step backward, retreat, and leave them alone? Maybe not. Definitely not! He should bring this to a closure. He would have the rest of his life to kiss and caress Angela, but for now there was one more thing he needed to straighten out. So he pulled back, far enough to be able to look into Angela's eyes.

"Does that mean you're accepting my proposal?"

"Yes, Tony, I'm accepting your proposal."

"Oh, that's wonderful, Angela! Wonderful! I suppose I should take you out on a date as soon as you're released from the hospital. No pity date, a real date!"

"Well, the doctor told me to take it slow for the next couple of weeks."

"No problem at all. As you know, I am the master of slowness," Tony said with a grin. "So, if you're not supposed to go out, we'll have a date in our living room. I'll serve you a first-class dinner, ask you for a slow dance, take you home, and kiss you goodnight on the threshold to your bedroom."

"Oh, how gallant of you to respect the threshold to my bedroom," Angela joked.

"Until we're married, it's off limits, Angela!" Tony exclaimed with the pretense of being shocked.

"Don't you think that it's a bit weird given the fact that you'll marry a pregnant woman?"

"Maybe you're right," Tony had to admit.

"But...uhm...I'm afraid we have to wait a little anyway. Doctor Winer also told me to abstain from sexual intercourse for at least another four weeks."

"How dare he assume you'd be about to have sexual intercourse?"

"He thinks we're engaged, remember? And I'm pregnant, so I guess he assumes I'm a sexually active woman."

"Sexually active? Oooh, I like that notion, Angela!"

"Me too!" She grinned. "But as I said, we'll have to wait a little. For the baby's sake."

"Don't you worry, Angela, I'm fine with waiting. Sex is a wonderful thing, and I'm looking forward to continuing what we started these few weeks ago - I think the doctor said it's been 10 weeks - but there's much more to a relationship than sex. I, for example, think that kissing can be as exciting and fulfilling as making love. So, if I have to content myself with making out for the next four weeks, I don't mind at all!"

"What's keeping you from starting right now?"

"If I only had a Do-not-disturb sign to put on the door knob, or a hanger! I'm afraid the doctor or one of the nurses might butt it once again."

"Or Mother."

"That would be even worse!"

Angela giggled. It was the sweetest, cutest, most appealing giggle Tony had ever heard.

"Aaaah, what the heck?" he said, embraced her tightly and engaged her in a kiss so deep and so intense that even if the entire staff plus various family members had gathered around them to ogle, he wouldn't have cared at all.


	2. A Cold January Night

_**Ten weeks earlier**_

"Tony, I'm home!"

Angela closed the door behind her. She threw her coat and briefcase on the bench beside the door and pulled off her hat. She had quit work early because Tony and she had plans for tonight.

Tony rushed through the swinging kitchen door to welcome her.

"Oh, you really managed to come home early. Great! We can start right away," he said, handing her a dry Martini with two olives. It was Friday night, and mixing a Martini had become a tradition at the end of every working week.

"Give me a minute to change, then I'll join you in the kitchen."

"There's no need to hurry, Angela. We've got plenty of time."

Tony had lost a bet to Angela. One he'd never imagined he could lose. They had watched a boxing match together, and Angela had talked him into betting on who might come out as the winner. Being the sports fan he was, very familiar with the two opponents, their preliminary career and respective fighting stats, Tony had been absolutely sure about who would be winning this fight. But he had been wrong. Not only had Angela bet on the right horse, she had also predicted a knockout. Her stake had been an additional day off for him, his a home-cooked dinner of her choice. And of course she had opted for her favorite meal: linguine alle vongole. And tonight Tony was going to clear his betting debts.

It took Angela only a few minutes to jump out of her business attire and slip into a pair of slacks and a shirt. She tamed her blond mane with a ribbon, put some comfortable sneakers on her feet, which were still aching a little from being pressed into high heels for the entire day. Then she pulled a shopping bag out of the closet she had hidden there a few days ago. It contained an apron with an imprint saying, "Cooking Apprentice". She put it on, checked her appearance in the mirror, smiled at herself, and was ready for a fun evening with Tony. The kids were away for the weekend - all three of them. Jonathan was on a ski trip with his father, Sam at Bonnie's for a slumber party, and Mona had been invited by one of her countless admirers to a romantic getaway; she had signed herself out from work even earlier than Angela.

Angela scooted downstairs to meet Tony in the kitchen. When she pictured him at the stove she had to laugh. He was wearing a special apron as well, his saying, "While I have this apron on, I AM THE BOSS!" Looking down on herself she said, "It seems as if the roles are clearly defined."

It wasn't easy for Tony to stay earnest, but he tried to reply as sternly as possible, "Cooking linguine alle vongole is no picnic, Angela, it's a serious undertaking. And too many cooks spoil the broth. So I only want you to understand that this is my realm, and I'm the one who calls the shots."

"Very well, Sir!" Angela saluted. "What do you want me to do, Boss?"

"You start with peeling the onions and chopping them into small cubes."

"No problem at all," Angela replied.

"We'll see..." Tony mumbled to himself.

They both worked in silence for a moment. Angela really made an effort with the onions, but her cubes didn't come out as perfectly as if Tony had chopped them. Still, when she handed him the cutting board with the pile of onions, he smiled and praised her, "Good job." Then he brushed away a tear from her cheek with the corner of his apron. "Next time you use a sharper knife so chopping onions won't bring tears to your eyes."

"Thank you for the advice."

"You're welcome."

Both had fun in their interchanged roles. Tony showed Angela how to sauté the onions, then he added the red and yellow peppers as well as the garlic he had chopped while Angela had been busy with her task.

"Would you hand me the clams, please," Tony now asked, "they're in the sink, draining in the sieve."

Angela did as she was told - "Here you go, Master!" - , then looked over his shoulder at how he threw them into the frying pan. He added a bit of the clam juice and some sugar to the mixture.

In the meanwhile, a little metal object on the kitchen counter caught Angela's attention.

"What's this?"

"It's a pasta machine, Angela," Tony explained.

"We're making pasta from scratch?"

"Sure. My homemade pasta is legendary. The dish tastes so much better with homemade pasta instead of this second-class stuff you get in the supermarket. I prepared the dough this morning, and you're going to make linguine out of it."

"But I don't know how to operate this machine."

"Don't worry. I show you."

Tony approached Angela who stood at the counter looking down at the little chrome gadget in front of her. "Put your right hand here," he placed her right hand on the crank, "and your left hand here." He stood real close behind her now, his stomach pressed against her back. "Now you turn the crank like this," they turned it together, "and catch the linguine as it falls out of this slot here." He gently moved her other hand to where the pasta was supposed to come out of the cutter.

Angela swallowed hard. The blood was rushing in her ears. She didn't get too much of what Tony was explaining to her. She was too distracted because of his muscular body pressed against hers. She could feel his breath on her neck and his big strong hands on hers. His cologne was intoxicating. She was quite sure that it wasn't necessary to stand so close in order to explain how to use a pasta machine. He was flirting with her, grabbing at the opportunity to establish physical contact. She faced two possibilities now: she could push him back, destroying the heated moment, pointing out that they were cooking, eating and making small talk, or she could play along, showing him she was willing to participate in the flirting and bantering.

Angela opted for #2 without deliberately thinking about it. This was going to be real fun!

"Here, you have to spread some flour on the counter to prevent the pasta from sticking to it."

"Flour? Wouldn't that be a risky ingredient to use?" She was alluding to the night they had baked a chocolate birthday cake together in this very same kitchen. Back then, a little flour fight had gotten out of hand and had ended in their first kiss. If Tony hadn't proved to be the man of honor he actually was, they probably would've ended up doing something stupid.

"Not as long as we're sober, Angela!" With this he turned around and held out a glass. "Some wine?"

"Are you trying to stupefy me in order to...you know?"

"Of course not!" he protested. "We need to taste the wine. We don't want it to taste corky if we use it for the pasta sauce."

"I see..." Angela took the glass of white wine from his hand and took a tiny sip. "No. No corky taste!"

"Good," Tony said with a complacent grin on his face and poured some into the clam mixture. "Why don't you make the linguine, using the pasta machine like I showed you, and I'm going to set the table."

"Okay."

"Have an eye on the sauce and stir once in a while. We want it to simmer, not boil."

"Aye-aye, Sir."

Angela gave her best with the pasta, but the dough was so unwieldy, and what came out of the little machine didn't look like linguine at all. The noodles were either too long or too short, they were uneven and lumpy, and they stuck together - maybe she should toss more flour on them, but she was afraid to do so. She sweated, railed, and was annoyed by a wild strand of her hair which kept tickling her cheek.

"Easy, easy," she suddenly heard Tony whisper into her ear. That cologne intoxicated her once again. He put the strand behind her ear in a slow, tender movement, then he brushed some flour off her cheek with his thumb.

"Look, you take a pasta sheet and hold it up in the air like this, then you drape the bottom into the cutting roller. Slowly and evenly turn the crank and the linguine will come out perfectly cut. See! Put your hand here," he motioned her hand into the right position, "under the cut pasta, then put in down and sprinkle it with a little bit of flour. That's it!"

"Aw, you're so good, Tony!" Angela moaned.

"You bet I am!"

They gazed at each other awkwardly because of the ambiguity implied in the words they had just uttered.

"Uh," Tony cleared his throat, "I guess we should cook the pasta and finish the sauce."

He lifted the lid off a huge pot with readily salted and boiling water and put the linguine in, both his perfectly cut basket as well as Angela's indefinable lump. He masterfully chopped some parsley and added it to the clam mixture, followed by a little bit of whipping cream. He seasoned it with salt and white pepper, stirred once again, then held the wooden spoon up for Angela to taste.

He looked at her how she opened her mouth, how her lips embraced the spoon, and how she closed her eyes savoring her favorite pasta sauce.

"What do you say? Do you like it?" he asked eagerly.

"Mmmm, perfect. You've once again outdone yourself, Tony!"

"I didn't do this alone, you contributed your share! Don't hide your light under a bushel!"

"Well, let's say you managed to keep me from spoiling it."

"Nonsense! You're a good cook."

"Tony! I'm in advertising, remember? I recognize a bald-faced lie if I come across one, but thanks for trying to make me feel good."

"I love to make you feel good...uh,well...I meant...er, you know what I meant!"

"Yes, Tony, I know what you meant."

Angela cast Tony a warm smile and got one equally warm back. They tore their eyes away from the other and inhaled deeply. Boy, cooking really could be a sensual undertaking!

"Wellll...the pasta will be ready in a few minutes. Would you like to have a glass of wine? I'd propose our cooking wine, it'll go perfectly with the sauce."

"Yes, why not? Do we have time to change?"

"I don't think we need to change, but we should take our aprons off, don't you think?"

"Does that mean that you're not the boss any longer and I'm not the apprentice?"

"Yes, that's exactly what it means, Angela."

"So, we're two friends having dinner?"

"Exactly. I'm just paying my dues after having lost a bet."

"No need for fancy clothes then."

"No."

"No romantic mood whatsoever."

"Not at all."

Their voices were deceiving them though. What they had assured each other of just now had rather been like whistling in the dark. The kitchen was loaded with so much chemistry that Angela was afraid to light a match, for she thought the whole place might explode. And when she entered the living room, the entire setting reinforced the impression.

Tony had laid the table by the chimney and had already started a fire. The flickering flames were creating a cozy, homey atmosphere. He had dimmed the lights, put a white cloth on the table, and chosen the Wedgewood china as well as the lead crystal wine glasses. In the middle of the table, he had placed the silver candlesticks and had lit the candles. He had deliberately placed the table near the fire. On their last dinner for two, it hadn't been put that close, so they had been obliged to move after they had finished their meal. And although he was lacking an appendix to burst this time, he thought that getting rid of the necessity to move at some point of the evening might be nice. Moreover, it was a cold January night with snow piling up in the streets, so sitting by the fire would make them feel warm and comfortable.

"May I bring you to the table, Ma'am?" Tony said, holding his arm out to Angela.

"You may," she replied politely, and together they walked the few steps over from the kitchen door to the fire place. Tony pulled one of the chairs out and let Angela sit down. Then he took the wine bottle out of the cooler and poured two glasses.

"To Larry "The Steelhammer" Dooley, who lost a match he wasn't supposed to!"

"Well, I'm glad he lost," Angela commented Tony's toast.

"Because you don't have to give me an additional day off?"

"No, because had he won, I wouldn't have had the pleasure of sharing this evening with you."

"Ah, well..." Tony was flattered and the way Angela was looking at him let his heart beat faster.

Both enjoyed the meal and each other's company. They talked about Angela's work and Tony's exams, about where they might go on their next family vacation, Tony told Angela the latest neighborhood gossip, and Angela reminisced about how she had started her agency with his help.

After the plates had been cleared and the wine glasses emptied, Tony announced, "I'll get the dessert."

Angela was surprised. "We didn't prepare a dessert."

"No, we didn't. But did you really think I'd treat you a dinner without a dessert? I made my great grandmother's fabulous tiramisu. The recipe you like so much."

"The one which needs to sit for two days until it's done?"

"That's the one!"

"Oh Tony, you shouldn't have."

"Only the very best for my gir-...er, boss!" Tony jumped off his chair because of what had almost slipped out of his mouth. How come this evening felt more and more like a real date and not so much like an ordinary dinner with his best friend anymore? "Let me get the tiramisu." That would give him some time to cool down and take a deep breath.

When he returned with two bowls and two cups of espresso, he found Angela staring into the fire. Her face was lit by the flames, her eyes were shining, and her blond hair seemed to glow. Seeing her like this, what the neighbors were wondering about suddenly made sense. He had heard more than once through the grapevine that they were asking themselves how two healthy, attractive adults such as Angela and he could live under the same roof keeping their hands off each other. And observing Angela right now, Tony asked himself the very same question.

"Here you go, Angela," he said, placing a bowl and a cup in front of her.

"Thank you. This really looks wonderful." She put a spoonful in her mouth and savored the sweet, rich, chocolatey dessert with closed eyes. "Mmmm, delicious as always. Tony, I've been to quite a few gourmet restaurants in my life, but your tiramisu is outstanding. I've never tasted something as perfect as this elsewhere."

Angela almost always praised his food and leaving aside the breakfast, which to Tony's ongoing dismay only consisted of coffee and juice, she honored his cooking efforts with being such a good eater. For a woman with her slight figure it was rather uncommon, so he really appreciated it. He couldn't count the many times he had surprised her in the kitchen having a midnight snack or some ice-cream. The way she used to look at him at moments like these, stricken with guilt, trying to justify her cravings with the quality of his cooking, thereby putting the blame on him, always amused him.

"Would you like to have a glass of cognac to top our dinner off? I found an old bottle of Hennessy dusting the cabinet last week."

"Hennessy? That was Michael's favorite. Could that be still one of his? It's been a few years since he left this house."

"Maybe. I didn't buy it." He shrugged. "Want one?"

"Why not? A small glass won't harm, I guess."

After they had emptied their glasses, the amber-colored liquid warming their stomachs, Tony started to clear the table.

"Let me help you, Tony."

"Oh no! You stay here by the fire, I'll take care of the dishes."

"We cooked together, we ate together, and now we're going to do the dishes together," Angela said and tolerated no dissent.

"If you insist."

"I do."

And that was how it came that ten minutes later Tony and Angela were standing next to each other at the sink, their sleeves rolled up, Tony with his hands in the water cleaning the dishes, Angela with a kitchen towel in her hand drying them. With every dried item she walked over to one of the cabinets to stow it away. They chatted and laughed and enjoyed doing this together.

When Tony had cleaned the last piece, one of the lead crystal wine glasses, he put it on the counter for Angela to stow it away. He dried his hands, threw the towel on the little peg beside the sink, and turned around to check whether she needed any help.

She did need help. She wanted to put the glass where it belonged, and that was the topmost cabinet where they put the things they didn't use very often. But she couldn't reach that high. She stretched for the top shelf, balancing on one foot. Her short, tight shirt rode up and revealed her slender waist. Tony stared at Angela's alabaster skin and bootylicious butt. The appealing sight took away his breath, and he couldn't help but think back to the day he had gotten a glimpse of her entire naked front side. It had only been a split second, but the beguiling curves had been branded into his memory ever since. Reminiscing about this incident in combination with the entrancing sight right in front of his eyes now made his pulse accelerate. He swallowed hard. Then he took a few big steps and got behind her, pretending to help her with the glass, but actually only longing to be near her. Angela hadn't expected anything like this, so she swung around and found him standing in front of her so closely that their noses almost touched.

They stared at each other for a short moment, none of them moving or saying a word. Then the inevitable happened and their lips met almost on their own. Their subtle desire for each other and underlying affection, which had been part of the entire evening, was finally breaking ground and there was simply nothing they could do about it. Their tongues developed their own dynamics and greedily reached out for each other. It was just like the night they had baked chocolate cake, only that this time they weren't drunk.

Their kisses got deeper and deeper. Tony's skin prickled and his arousal made itself felt in his pants. He lifted Angela onto the counter and started kissing her throat and cleavage. He thanked God for the invention of the v-neck. He slipped his hands under the hem of her shirt and touched the waist that had bewildered him so much just a few moments ago.

"Tony," Angela moaned when she felt his warm hands caressing her waist, "we've got to stop this," negating her words right away by pulling his head close and fondling his hair.

"I can't, Angela!" he stammered in between kisses. He let his hands travel higher, up to her breasts. He kneaded them through the bra. It was a plain cotton bra, this much Tony was able to feel. Well, she hadn't anticipated for something like this to happen, went through his mind, she might have opted for something kinkier if she had. 'What am I thinking? What am I doing? I'm touching Angela's breasts!' Tony's brain was slowly melting, and by the time Angela started fumbling at the buttons of his shirt, it was a complete core meltdown.

There was no chance of thinking straight anymore, of wasting a thought about the consequences, of reassessing whether it was such a good idea to continue, all there was was arousal and desire. 'Not here,' was all Tony managed to decide. He didn't want to take her between pots and pans on the kitchen counter like he was humping some floozy. She was a classy lady and deserved better than that; _they_ deserved better than that. So he gently lifted her down, took her hand, and dragged her out of the kitchen. At the landing of the stairs, he suddenly stopped mid-stride which made Angela bump into his backside. In a short moment of awareness, Tony realized that this was the point of no return, the last chance to call a halt. He turned around and looked at Angela, but her eyes spoke volumes: she wanted him as much as he wanted her. She reinforced her intentions with a passionate kiss, and so they stumbled upstairs, fumbling and kissing and moaning.

Having finally banished every doubt about what they were on the brink of doing, Tony took Angela's hand and made toward her bedroom door, but Angela stopped in front of his room.

"No, Tony. Not my bedroom. I want the man to take me to his place after a date."

"But my bed is smaller than yours, and my duvet isn't as fluffy."

"I don't care," she breathed and gently pushed him through the doorframe into his bedroom.

As soon as they were in Tony's room, Angela wasn't able to control herself any longer. She had fantasized about being taken to this room, and had wanted to knock on this door at night more than once in the past. Now that she was really in there, being touched and kissed by the man of her dreams, she was ready to let anything happen. And because both had been attracted to each other almost from the start, and because both had bottled up their feelings for each other so long, and because this entire evening had been like dancing on a tightrope, there was no way of stopping this.

They made love, more passionately and frenzied than they had ever imagined possible. It was deep, intense and primal in a way. They were able to let go of everything which had been withholding them until this night. There was no business contract, no surrogate family, no platonic friendship, and no cultural divide between them anymore. They felt free to dive into physicality and sensuality. And they did, their minds being far away from such off-turning issues as safer sex or birth control. Between pulling Angela's shirt over her head and ripping his off his body he had popped the question of a condom, but when Angela had mumbled something about an infertile phase of her cycle, he had forgotten all about it in an instant. The universe seemed to have shrunk to the here and now, nothing else mattered - neither what had happened yesterday nor what would happen tomorrow. The past, as well as the future, became unimportant to both of them. That was what made this experience so special, for both: rational, cerebral Angela had never been this uninhibited in bed, and proud, macho Tony had never physically wanted a woman so badly others might consider way out of his league.

They were about to share a night which would change their perception of each other forever.

* * *

Tony's body and mind were slowly pulled back from the lightness the previous evening and night had offered him into this day's cold reality. He fought back eagerly, trying to stay in that peaceful slumber where things simply were wonderful. Last night had been carefree and sweet, devoid of any dissonance or contradiction. It had consisted of pure lust and the satisfaction of needs, both physical and emotional. But now the weight of the given circumstances was squeezing his ribcage and threatened to smother him.

Angela was lying beside him, still embraced by the tender comfort of sleep. Her facial features were soft and relaxed, her breathing slow and regular. Her head rested on his shoulder, the rest of her body clung to his; her arms embraced his waist and her legs were wrapped around his. Why couldn't they stay like this forever? There was no place on this earth he would've preferred to be right now, and no other person he would've wanted to have next to him. This was perfection, but it was about to fall into pieces - inevitably.

Tony heard the snowplows outside, piling up even more snow. It was still dark, but he had no idea what time it was. Maybe 5 a.m. or 5:30. That would give him another hour or so until this night would definitely be over. Angela was an early bird just like him, she would wake up soon. What should he say to her? What would she want to hear from him?

What had this last night been anyway? The beginning of a love affair, a romance even? Or had it simply been sex, insignificant and hollow? No, the latter wasn't possible. He had had insignificant sex before and had never felt this way the next morning. This had been very significant, but in which way? He was afraid Angela might blame him for this, for not having stopped himself. The first time they had kissed in the kitchen, he had acted like a gentleman and had withstood her approaches because they hadn't been serious. But last night Angela's approaches had been damned serious. Rejecting her would've probably been less gentlemanly than reciprocating. Well, he would find out soon what she thought about all this.

If Tony only knew what he himself thought about all this. How could something be so good and induce so much angst at the same time? How could something feel so wrong and then again so right? Why had Larry "The Steelhammer" Dooley only lost this fight?

He could squirm and writhe as much as he wanted, this needed to be talked out. There was no way he could sneak out of this bed and pretend that last night hadn't happened. Not to mention the fact that this was his bed. Angela had had the greatness to share his narrow bed for their lovemaking instead of taking him to her four-poster master bedroom luxury lady bed as if he were some boy toy. He wasn't anything like that to her, he knew. She had never treated him as a domestic, and she definitely didn't see a kept man in him. Maybe things would be easier if she did. They could finally establish a relationship half their neighborhood suspected they were having anyway; no feelings would be involved, nobody would get hurt. But Angela wasn't that kind of woman. She was honest and sincere, a person of integrity and decency. She would never take advantage of another human being, let alone of an employee. And he was her employee, not matter how you looked at it. Angela treated others with respect and politeness, this was exactly what scared Tony to death. That what they had had last night was nothing but casual sex to her was simply unimaginable. Her intentions were serious, maybe too serious for him to handle.

Tony's shoulder hurt, the one which had been injured during his baseball career, the very same Angela had rested her head on. He moved his upper body, just a little to make Angela put her head on the pillow, but he woke her up instead. When she opened her eyes, they fell on Tony and instantly started to shine.

"Good morning," she said in her mellifluous voice.

"Uh, morning," he replied clumsily.

Angela sensed Tony's tension right away, although she wasn't completely awake yet.

"You okay?"

"Well, yeah."

"You don't sound especially convincing." She disentangled herself from him, even though she couldn't easily let go of his body. She propped her head up on her arm and dug deeper, "Is something the matter?"

"I don't know. Is it?"

Angela narrowed her eyes and frowned.

"If you're asking me, Tony, I'm fine, but I have the feeling something is bothering you. Have I done something wrong? Are you...uh...disappointed in me? As...a lover, I mean?"

"No! No, no, no! Not at all, Angela! Don't even think that this might be the problem. It was...great! Uhm..._you_ were great."

"But there _is_ a problem."

Tony's awkwardness was palpable. He sat upright and leaned his back against the header of the bed. He stroked his hair. He had no idea how to start the conversation.

"Tony, I didn't expect this either. At some point, things seem to have gotten out of hand last night."

"So, you're also surprised that it happened?"

"Sure."

"Oh, good!" he exclaimed somewhat relieved, and it was exactly that display of relief which hit Angela to the core. He wasn't at ease with what had happened, this much she could already tell. For her part, she felt uplifted after having made love to Tony, at least she had been until this minute. His reticence and taciturnity spoke volumes and told her that his feelings differed substantially from hers. When she had drifted off into that peaceful slumber last night, after having been given the sweetest pleasures, she had somehow expected to wake up to a wonderful new life with Tony. But her hopes were being crushed by the aloof way he was treating her now.

"What do you propose we do now?" Angela asked openly, desperately trying to hide her expectations.

"I don't know. We could look at it like a memorable one-off experience."

"A one-night stand?" Angela was dumbfounded. She had expected he would ask her for time, that he would prefer to take things slowly in order to adapt to the new situation step by step. But it turned her world upside down that he was willing to chalk this heavenly night up as something which didn't need to be repeated. Had she really misinterpreted his signs that much? Had she been nothing more than an object of sexual desire for him? And now that he had slept with her, his interest in her waned? Was he just like so many other men? Even her husband had eventually lost interest in her.

"If you want to call it that," he said, his voice lacking emotion.

No, Angela didn't want to call it that. Not at all.

Her heart shattered into a thousand pieces, and she needed to muster up all her self-control in order not to burst into tears. Could it be true that although Tony had been the most giving and devoted lover last night, he hadn't really been into it? Was it possible that he had only pretended his yearning for her? Had the sweet words he had whispered into her ear been empty, shallow phrases he told every woman in bed? And hadn't calling out her name the moment his entire body had been shaken by ecstasy been a sign of his adoration? Could he really not be in love with her and make love to her like he had last night?

Angela felt very naked all of a sudden. Her body was naked, but she also felt her heart and soul being exposed and unprotected. She pulled the duvet up and stuck it tightly around her upper body and under her armpits. She longed for a garment to put on her body and cover her vulnerability, but her clothes were scattered throughout Tony's room and out of reach. The same applied to his clothes. That might be the reason why he also stayed in bed, keeping every body part from his chest downward covered, carefully keeping a big enough distance from Angela in order not to touch her. What she interpreted as reluctance was nothing else than self-protection on Tony's part. He knew that the moment he felt her warm, soft, naked skin, he'd be aroused once again. And that he wasn't able to control himself once he was aroused by her had been proven last night.

"Any idea how to solve this…problem?" Angela now asked, meaning their present dilemma of how to leave this bed in dignity as well as how to move on with their lives.

"You close your eyes and I get my clothes, then I give you privacy to get dressed," Tony answered at least one of her questions.

Angela let out an uneasy, mocking laugh. "This is ridiculous, Tony! We saw each other naked last night. We had sex, remember?"

"I do, Angela. But that was last night, and things are...different this morning."

"Why do they have to be different?"

"Because you are you, and I am me," Tony tried to explain.

"So you really want to pretend that last night never happened?"

"Angela, let's be reasonable here! What would we tell the kids? That we share a bedroom from now on? And besides, do you really want to be in a relationship with someone who cleans your toilet? I can picture the faces of your Country Club friends when you introduce your new boyfriend, the housekeeper and student. It won't work, Angela!" He shook his head and repeated dejectedly, "It just won't work."

"If you say so."

Angela had a different view on their relationship, but what good would it do either of them if she voiced her dreams and hopes now? Tony had decided for both of them, and he was being very clear and resolute. He wanted to go back to their platonic friendship. He wanted to forget what had happened, or at least he wanted to go on as if it hadn't happened. She didn't know whether she'd be able to do that. She'd be seeing Tony every day like before, but from now on without being allowed to fantasize about them anymore, and she wasn't sure whether this wouldn't eventually kill her. But did she have a choice at all? If she wanted to protect herself, she would have to expel him out of her life. But it would mean she'd destroy their family. She'd deprive Jonathan of his beloved surrogate father as well as Samantha of her home. And she'd deprive herself of the closest friend she ever had. No, firing him definitely wasn't an option.

"So, are we back to normal then?" Tony asked and turned his head to look at Angela. Until then he had avoided her eyes.

When Angela met his gaze, she read resolve in his eyes, but not only, there was something else she couldn't quite identify. It didn't seem to be regret or rejection, it rather looked like sorrow and apprehension. And distress, there definitely was distress in them, some deeply buried pain she couldn't find an explanation for. She asked herself whether he would ever confide in her about what he was trying to hide at this moment. He might if one day they succeeded in returning to their extraordinary friendship despite having crossed a line last night.

But was it really possible to go back to normal? They had opened Pandora's Box last night, and Angela wondered whether they could really deny the consequences. She didn't even know yet what the consequences consisted of, but she was afraid they might be serious with respect to their relationship. Tony had once said that making love would mean they lost each other as friends. His wish to not lose her friendship had kept him out of her bed the night of their first kiss so many years ago. He had also said that if they ever did lose each other as friends he wanted her to remember it. Well, that much he had accomplished. She would never forget her one and presumably only night with Tony. Even more so, she would treasure it, lock the memory in her heart like a piece of jewelry in a chest. At least she had been given that single night, it could be worse. Many women never had the chance to be together with a lover like Tony. It was something that would help her through rough waters whenever they occurred.

So Angela finally agreed and uttered the words which left a bitter aftertaste on her tongue: "Back to normal."

"Wonderful."

Tony's childlike relief touched Angela. He acted like a little boy who was told by his mother that everything would be okay. How she loved this man! This man, who now motioned her to close her eyes so he could sneak out of the bed he had shared with her and gather his clothes. She couldn't prevent herself from smiling when she put her hands in front of her eyes, parting the fingers a little bit just to get one last glimpse of his gorgeous butt. She should've better kept herself from peeking because it felt like a stab in her heart. This would be damned hard. Living with Tony the way they had used to would be like aspiring to a goal she knew was out of reach.

But she'd manage.

Somehow.


End file.
